


Take It With Me When I Go

by Distractivate



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, DJL Park Prompt, DJL UC&P Prompt, M/M, What if Patrick Never Moves to Schitt's Creek?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 08:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21133424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Distractivate/pseuds/Distractivate
Summary: Two people go to a park and have a nice chat. One has succumbed to a fresh wave of crippling loneliness. The other has spent the afternoon weeping. So perhaps it’s not the best day to start the rest of their lives. But fate has an odd sense of humor when it comes to timing these things.





	Take It With Me When I Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pants (Smarty_Pants)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smarty_Pants/gifts).

> Thanks to Daniel Levy for providing this fantastic prompt at Schitt's Creek Up Close & Personal.

Two people go to a park and have a nice chat. One has succumbed to a fresh wave of crippling loneliness. The other has spent the afternoon weeping. So perhaps it’s not the best day to start the rest of their lives. But fate has an odd sense of humor when it comes to timing these things.

“Mind if I sit down,” Patrick asks.

“Oh, um, sure,” the man replies, sliding over on the bench.

“Thanks."

"Sure," the man repeats. Patrick tries to ease down gracefully and hide how much his knees hate him after decades of baseball. And how nervous he is. He doesn't generally approach unsuspecting men in the park, but lately the online dating scene isn't cutting it. The man next to him goes back to his e-reader, focused and stunning, silver sprouting into the rise of his dark hair.

"You’re not allergic to peanut butter or anything are you?” Patrick asks, holding up a sandwich wrapped in cling film. 

“I am not,” the man replies, the long line of his mouth quirking up at one end.

“You from around here?” Patrick does his best to chew and swallow his first bite quickly, regretting this attempt to flirt and eat peanut butter at the same time.

“Used to be. Or I guess I just moved back.”

“Where from?”

“Small town in Ontario.”

“Me too! Which one?”

“Um.” The man looks uncomfortable. “Schitt’s Creek?”

“Really?” Clearly the man is used to a different reaction because Patrick’s enthusiasm startles him. “I live in Elm Valley. We’re in the same little league circuit as you. You have kids?”

“God no,” the man says, and then glances out the side of his eye toward Patrick. “Not that there’s—”

“It’s okay,” Patrick says, waving him off. “Trust me, they’re not for everyone.”

He has a nice laugh, Patrick thinks, soft and bright. “You?”

“One. Just dropped her off for an internship. She starts at Columbia in the fall.”

“Oh,” the man says, surprised. Patrick is used to that, people surprised he has a kid starting college. That’s what happens when you procreate at twenty. “That’s hard. I imagine.”

Even if he can’t imagine, he can probably see it’s been a hard day. Patrick’s face feels tight and sore from crying.

“They tell you when they’re babies that it gets easier, but they’re lying.” Patrick can’t keep the wetness from his voice. Maybe the problem is not the online dating apps, maybe the problem is Patrick and his lack of cool, his brain offers unhelpfully. But he’s been trying to get the courage to come talk to this man since he saw him across the park twenty minutes earlier. So he presses on. “The only thing that gets easier is sleep. The rest gets harder and harder and then one day you say goodbye.”

“No wonder so many people do it." The man does a little shimmy-shrug, and Patrick laughs to try to hide how much he likes it. "I don’t have kids, but . . . it’s never easy to say goodbye.”

The man's eyes drop to the path in front of them; Patrick clearly needs to change the subject or he's going to lose him. “Anyway, what brings you back to New York?”

“Oh, I just—I just got divorced, actually. Thought it might be nice to start fresh somewhere. Or not just, I guess. It’s been a year.”

“I’m divorced, too,” Patrick says. “It’s been twelve years for me and it still feels like ‘just’ some days.”

“Yeah,” the man agrees, his face softening. “Should have timed the move better though. Nothing makes you feel divorced like spending your birthday alone away from home.”

“I bet." Patrick lets that rest a minute. "So I'm piecing together it might be your birthday?”

It's another of those bright laughs, and Patrick thinks even if this man wants nothing to do with him, he'll be better for having these five minutes in his company.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Well happy birthday. Do you have any plans?”

“Um . . .” the man looks down at his hands, switching a ring from one finger to another. “No. Just a regular weeknight.”

“Can I buy you a birthday dinner?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’d like to,” Patrick says. There's a long look, and then the man tips his head just slightly. And he knows.

“Sure,” the man agrees, a delightful flush contrasting with his stark appearance.

“Oh, I’m Patrick by the way,” he says, holding out his hand. “Patrick Brewer.”

The man takes it, warm and soft and firm. “David Rose.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to OhSchittWeWroteFanFic for making reading and writing fanfic the best hobby. Title from the song Take It With Me by Tom Waits.


End file.
